


how would you feel (if i told you i loved you)

by crystalcrow



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcrow/pseuds/crystalcrow
Summary: Andrew and Neil know what they feel for each other, they don't need to say it when actions speak louder than words for them.(or, one hundred times andrew and neil say "i love you" to each other without actually saying it)
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 29
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my swamp, y'all . 
> 
> i have A Lot of feelings about andreil always and when i saw [this tumblr post](https://p0ck3tf0x.tumblr.com/post/98502010026/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you), i found the perfect way to let those feelings out . a little . 
> 
> a big thank you to my nemesis leah for proof reading this bad boy

The Foxes face the Trojans in the semi finals and manage to win 11 to 5. 

Andrew takes a drag of his cigarette and leans against the Maserati, enjoying the quiet outside of the stadium after the screaming of his teammates and the audience. He looks up at the darkened sky and remembers Neil pulling off an impossible move with Kevin, Neil scoring their last goal, Neil ripping off his helmet after the buzzer sounded, Neil looking at the final score, Neil looking back at him with a grin on his stupid face. Neil, Neil, _Neil._

There’s the sound of shoes scraping against the ground and Andrew looks away from the sparkling sky to see Renee approach him, her dyed hair bright in the dark parking lot. He feels a muted twinge of annoyance that he didn’t hear her because he was too wrapped up in thoughts about Neil. 

“It was a fun game,” Renee says, stopping next to him. The doors of the stadium open and Andrew can hear more than see the other Foxes; especially Kevin and Allison’s arguing. “You played well.” 

Andrew takes another drag of his cigarette. “Was it?” he asks, blowing out the smoke with the words. It twirls around in the air before vanishing, only leaving a trace of the smell behind. 

Renee just smiles at him. 

When Andrew looks away and back towards the stadium, he sees Aaron with his arm around the cheerleader. His brother sends him a glare without any heat and Kevin, who is right behind them and still arguing with Allison, follows them to the cheerleaders car. 

The others get in their cars and Renee smiles at Andrew again before moving towards Allison’s Porsche. Andrew listens to the engines as the Foxes leave and focuses on the stars above him again. 

It doesn’t take more than five minutes for Neil to come out of the stadium, bag slung over one shoulder and his skin still wet in some places because he doesn’t know how to dry himself properly. He looks up, his eyes ridiculously blue even though it’s dark, and makes his way over (and Andrew is sure his heartbeat picks up because of the cigarette). The faint glow of the stadium lights makes Neil’s hair look a deep auburn and soft. 

Andrew’s finger twitches and he takes a last drag of his cigarette before letting it fall. 

Neil steps on it and comes to a stop in front of Andrew. His mouth quirks up at the corners and steps a little closer. “You come here often?” 

Andrew blows the smoke in Neil’s face. A droplet of water runs down the side of Neil’s throat, faintly reflected by the lights behind Neil and his sleeves are rolled up, his forearms bare and Andrew hates him so, so much. 

“Hey,” Neil says and when Andrew looks back up at him, Neil takes a look around the empty parking lot. “Yes or no?” 

Instead of answering verbally, Andrew wraps his hands in the fabric of Neil’s soft shirt and tugs him down, raising his chin to meet him in the middle. There is a softness to their kiss, something they both aren’t used to and it makes Andrew feel like he’s been dropped out of a plane without parachute. Neil’s lips part under his and he catches Neil’s shaky exhale, curling his fingers harder into his shirt before raising his chin. 

Neil steps back half an inch and rests his forehead against Andrew’s and, just for a second, Andrew closes his eyes and let’s him. Then he says, “get off” as if he isn’t still holding Neil in place. 

“You were amazing today,” Neil chooses to say next and Andrew really doesn’t know why he hasn’t gotten rid of him yet. (This is a blatant lie but Andrew is okay with that for now). 

Andrew finally lets go of Neil and picks up Neil’s bag from where he let it fall to the ground, throwing it into the backseat before getting in on the passenger side and closing the door. 

Neil follows a few seconds later, settling into the driver's seat and taking way too long to adjust the seat and the rearview mirror. He starts the engine and raises one eyebrow when he catches Andrew looking at him. 

“I hate you,” Andrew tells him over the purr of the car and Neil just hums in agreement and Andrew really hates him. 

They pull away from the stadium and the radios volume is almost turned all the way down and Andrew feels the exhaustion from the game hitting him as he watches buildings fly by but he isn’t tired enough to sleep in the car. He knows that he probably won’t be able to sleep in the Maserati either, his body and mind won’t find rest until he is in his bed in Columbia. 

Turning his head puts Neil in his field of vision and there is something about seeing Neil drive a ridiculously expensive car that Andrew greatly enjoys looking at. Neil isn’t wearing his armbands, his forearms exposed and hands relaxed on the steering wheel. Quiet satisfaction is pouring out of Neil like liquid out of a bottle after you open it and hold it upside down, and the nervous buzz he always has after games is finally gone. 

It’s only because Andrew is looking at him that he catches the way Neil clenches his jaw for a few seconds and then blinks a few times. He has suppressed yawning in the past and knows what it looks like. 

“Pull over,” Andrew says after it happens another three times and Neil glances at him for a second. 

“Why? I can still drive, it’s--” he breaks off and yawns, this time really, before he can even start saying he’s fine. 

“Pull over, Neil,” Andrew repeats and Neil sets the blinker after making sure the highway is empty enough to do so. Andrew gets out of the car as soon as the Maserati stops, rounding the car and opening the door on the drivers side. He stands and waits until Neil is sitting in the passenger seat until he gets in. “You should sleep if you’re tired.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Neil.” 

“Really,” Neil says and Andrew can feel his gaze on the side of his head. “It’s not like I was going to fall asleep on the wheel, Andrew.” 

Andrew doesn’t answer him and drives faster than Neil did. It’s definitely not because he cares, and if Neil lightly brushes his fingers against the back of Andrew’s right hand resting on the gear shift and Andrew lets him, it’s nothing either. 

Or so Andrew continues to tell himself despite knowing better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, a big thank you to leah for proof reading this .  
> this is for leah because . just because . 
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS !!

It’s Christmas and Neil definitely does not have a present for Andrew. 

They silently agreed not to buy each other anything for the holiday, because christmas doesn’t mean anything to either of them. There is no need to get each other presents to say _“hey, I care about you”_ , when they do so with every hand at the back of the neck, with every glance, with every shared cigarette and every “yes or no?” 

Which is why the shirt Neil has on his lap, black and in a size that would make it hang off his shoulders but will fit Andrew’s broader frame, is anything but a present for the goalkeeper. He saw it in the afternoon, when he and Allison went to the mall together (which is something they started doing after winning the championships and something Neil, despite thinking the opposite at the beginning, actually enjoys), hanging between green and blue shirts. It had looked like a normal black shirt, long sleeved and soft, until Neil held it in his hands and rubbed his thumb over the fabric and just knew this screamed Andrew. 

A knock on the door frame brings him back into the present. 

When he looks up, Allison is poking her head into the room, her long, blonde hair hanging down like a curtain and shimmering golden in the light. “Nicky is back.” 

Neil knows this means that Andrew is back, too, and stands up before pocketing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

Kevin is sitting on the couch, an Exy game paused on the laptop screen next to him and his phone in one hand. He’s frowning down at it and types frantically, not looking up when Neil passes him. 

“Hey,” Allison says when he passes her and he looks over his shoulder when he reaches he door. “I hope he likes it.” 

The corner of Neil’s mouth twitches up and he gives her a nod before leaving the suite. He greatly appreciates her not calling Andrew “the monster” and Neil knows Andrew doesn’t care about any of those nicknames but he isn’t a monster, not even close to being one in Neil’s eyes. 

It takes Neil a few seconds to jog up the stairs to the roof door and he stops to catch his breath and pat the pockets of his sweatpants to confirm he didn’t lose anything before pushing it open. The cool air rips at Neil’s his orange sweater and he regrets not grabbing his jacket before leaving but he supposes he’ll live. 

He spots Andrew in the same place as always, with one of his legs dangling over the edge of the building and the other one pulled to his chest, one arm resting on his knee. Andrew doesn’t look up when Neil drops down next to him, careful to keep a little distance between them, but accepts the cigarettes Neil holds out. 

Neil decides to come straight to the point and says, “I have something for you.” 

Andrew leans the side of his face against his knee and his eyes look black when they meet Neil’s and Neil feels something bubbling in his chest, an emotion he can’t name and doesn’t recognize. Andrew quirks one eyebrow. 

“It’s not a present,” Neil says, because it’s not, and holds out the black shirt. “Just something that reminded me of you.” 

Handing Neil the lit cigarette, Andrew takes the shirt from him (and their fingers brush and Neil knows this isn’t an accident, not with Andrew, never with Andrew and there’s this emotion again and he feels alive). Neil watches as Andrew lets his other leg dangle over the edge as well, as he unfolds the shirt and puts it in his lap. It takes him only a few seconds to find what made Neil pick it. 

A knife, stitched into the fabric with yarn in the same color as the shirt and so small it’s invisible if you don’t know about it. 

Andrew fixes Neil with a blank look. “Funny, are we, Josten?” 

“You know,” Neil says lightly with a shrug, “I have to think of something to do after I retire, don’t I?” 

“I hate you.” 

Neil feels the corners of his mouth twitch up again. “I know you do.” 

Andrew steals the cigarette back and takes a drag. He tips his head back and lets the smoke curl out of his mouth without exhaling and Neil runs his eyes over Andrew’s sharp jawline and his neck before looking down at the dark parking lot. A few students are outside, walking from one building to the next and fleeing from the cold and into their cars. 

Something soft hits the side of his head and Neil catches before he knows what he’s doing. He can’t see it very well in the dark, but it’s soft and the size of his other bandana and even in the dark the orange is hard to miss. 

“Your hair is getting longer,” Andrew says meets his eyes. “It’s annoying to see you push it back every two seconds. Even more annoying during half times.” 

Neil puts it in the pocket of his team sweater and keeps his right hand on it, feeling the soft material between his fingers. “I’m sure it is.” 

Andrew blinks at him. “Shut the fuck up.” He flicks his cigarette over the edge and neither of them cares enough to see if it hits anyone. “I will push you off the roof.” 

Neil just hums, a warm feeling bubbling up in his chest and his hand on his new bandana. 

And that’s that, he guesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave kudos and a comment to give me a +50HP bonus 
> 
> reach me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seijohsmanager)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year, swamp visitors!   
> i hope y'all stayed safe and had a lot of fun! 
> 
> as always, big thanks to leah for proofreading and if there are any mistakes/typos, please do let me know in the comments 
> 
> also, i'm sorry this is kinda short

Andrew is on the roof, letting his cigarette burn down to the filter without taking a drag when he sees the Maserati pulling into a parking spot on the ground. The sun is shining today and the rays hit Neil’s auburn hair when he gets out of the car, making it almost glow and Andrew has to look away when his chest tightens. 

The orange sweater Neil is wearing under his coat clashes terribly with his hair, just like the bandana Andrew gave him ( _it was not a present, it wasn’t, it wasn’t it wasn’t_ ) but looking at him makes something in Andrew’s chest feel tight.

He flicks the still burning cigarette over the edge and follows it’s losing battle with gravity before his gaze gets pulled to Neil again. It happens often, these days, that Andrew’s eyes get drawn to Neil and it’s almost annoying; most of the time Neil isn’t even doing anything special. There’s almost something like satisfaction burning through him at the knowledge of Neil watching him right back. 

Andrew can’t see Neil clearly from all the up here, but Andrew knows an argument between him and Kevin even if he cannot hear them. Neil cocks his head to the side and flips his phone open and Kevin stands in front of him with his arms gesturing in the air. 

Neil’s shoulders go up when he takes a deep breath. He pockets his phone again and in the next second, Kevin throws his hands up and stalks into the building, clearly irritated with whatever Neil said to him. 

The cold breeze hits Andrew and he brings one of his knees up against his chest. There are still a few cigarettes in the pack when he removes one but he knows they won’t last long. He lights it quickly and wraps one arm around his knee, and when he looks down again, Neil has his head tilted back. And then the little shit salutes him before rushing into the building. 

It doesn’t take longer than a minute until the roof door opens behind Andrew, not that he is counting, and he can hear Neil’s shoes scraping against the ground as he walks closer. He drops down next to Andrew, not close enough to touch but close enough that Andrew can feel the warmth of his body and smell the shampoo they share. 

Something soft hits his lap and Andrew glances down to see his coat.

“It’s cold,” Neil says and steals Andrew’s cigarette from between his fingers without touching them. Andrew suddenly doesn’t feel cold anymore but still puts on the black coat and Neil takes a drag of the cigarette to keep it burning, his gaze on the sky. “I need the car later.” 

Andrew raises one eyebrow. 

“Nicky accidentally poured water over mine.” Neil grimaces and hands the cigarette back. He takes out his phone, opens it and presses a few buttons. The display stays dark. “It’s not working anymore.” 

“You’re driving.” 

Neil blinks. “Yeah?” He blinks again, catching on to what Andrew is saying and his mouth twitches up in a little smile that looks too soft on his face, too soft to be aimed at someone like Andrew and his chest feels tight again. “Your phone still works.” 

Andrew doesn’t think about it before he grabs it and chucks it over the edge of the roof. He doesn’t regret it either. 

There’s a soft curse not even two seconds later and they both lean forward to glance down (and if Andrew curls his fingers into the soft material of Neil’s horrific sweater as they do, they don’t mention it). 

Aaron is standing on the ground, his girlfriend next to him. He is holding the display of the flip phone that must have broken off on impact and looks down at the other part before lifting his head. “Are you fucking crazy?” 

Andrew looks away from his brother and notices the way Neil’s eyes narrow for a split moment. His features smooth out again and his eyes, so blue and bright, especially when the sun hits his face, find Andrew’s. 

“I guess we both need new phones now,” Neil says. “I’ll pay for them.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Maybe so.” Neil tilts his head to the side and the line of his neck is exposed by the move. Andrew blows smoke in his face and Neil smiles that soft smile again. “I technically bought you a Maserati, phones won’t hurt me.” 

The mention of the expensive car parked in Andrew’s line of sight makes something funny to the sudden warmth spreading through him. He doesn’t have the energy to think about it, maybe he’ll bring it up with Bee tomorrow. Or maybe he’s just getting sick. 

“Do what you want,” Andrew says and gets up. He steps closer to Neil, the tips of their shoes touching, and looks up at him. 

“Yes,” Neil says before Andrew can ask _‘yes or no?’_ and makes a noise in the back of his throat when he meets Andrew in the middle. 

The tightness in Andrew’s chest disappears, just like that, and he feels warm all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/seijohsmanager)
> 
> and with that i mean 'please bust down the door to my dms and scream about andreil'. thank you


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back to my swamp and sorry for the long(er) wait.
> 
> big thank you to brooke for proof reading this bad boy!

The next Christmas banquet is today, and Neil is relieved that the Foxes are the ones hosting it. It left him enough time this morning to go for his morning run, shower quickly and then get manhandled into Allison’s car for emergency shopping. 

Neil had completely forgotten about the event, and on the day of it, standing in their suite and fixing his shirt, he is thankful that Allison had somehow known that Neil’s closet didn’t have a fitting outfit. 

Their door opens and Neil can hear Nicky’s cheerful voice and Kevin snapping something in return. With quick fingers, he finishes buttoning up his shirt and leaves the bathroom. 

Nicky comes out of the kitchen, a glass of water in hand, and whistles once when he sees Neil. “Damn, Neil. You clean up nice.” He blinks and waves around one of his hands. Kevin sighs from his place on the couch. “I mean, you looked fine the last time but, you know? And the grey suits your eyes!” 

“I.. thanks,” Neil says and ignores Nicky mentioning last year; it’s not something Neil wants to think about, not today, not this week. 

“Can we go?” Kevin asks and looks at Andrew. Andrew, sitting on his desk with the window open and a cigarette between his fingers, ignores him and slowly blows out smoke. Kevin sighs. 

“Neil,” Nicky says and motions to his own throat. “Do you need help with your..” He cuts off with a look over Neil’s shoulder and promptly turns around. “You know what, I’ll go see if Aaron is ready!” 

Neil blinks when he notices that Nicky takes the glass he took from their kitchen with him and turns to Kevin after the other striker sighs again. “Is there something bothering you?” 

Kevin looks between Neil and Andrew, rolls his eyes and stands up. He slams the door on his way out. 

“I think he might have been bothered by something,” Neil comments with the corners of his mouth twitching and turns to Andrew. 

The black suit Andrew is wearing shouldn’t make him look any different than he does every day, because Andrew only wears black, but it does. The dark material of his jacket stretches over his broad shoulders and hugs his biceps. Two buttons are popped open at the top of the white shirt he’s wearing underneath, exposing his strong neck. Neil thinks it’s the white shirt doing the magic but he knows himself enough to realize it isn’t true. Andrew in expensive clothes does something to him and Neil carefully stores that information away for later. 

Something hits his cheek and Neil blinks. He looks down as a small coin falls to the ground near his shoe. When he looks back up, Andrew’s stare is fixed on him instead of the wall where it had been as Kevin had left a few seconds (minutes? Neil couldn’t recall if he tried) ago.

His hazel eyes look more gold than green from the way the light hits them and Neil feels like he’s been struck by lightning, electricity flowing through his body and sparking at the tips of his fingers. 

Andrew crooks two of his fingers in a silent ‘come here’ and Neil walks closer, his body fitting between Andrew’s legs. There is a careful distance between their bodies but it feels like nothing to Neil when they breathe the same air, Andrew’s smokey breath warm on his face and Andrew’s skin radiating heat as if he’s the sun and Neil is a star flying too close, almost catching fire and burning into nothing. 

Neil blinks when Andrew makes quick work of his tie, twisting it this way and that way until it looks good. “How come you know how to tie a tie? You’re not even wearing one.” 

Andrew gives him a look and grips the collar of his jacket, too loosely to wrinkle it. “How come you don’t?” 

“It’s not exactly something I had to know for my life on the run.” 

Warm breath hits Neil’s face as Andrew sighs and Neil feels electric shocks running down his back. Andrew tugs him closer and Neil puts his hands on the desk when he almost stumbles into him. “Yes or no?” 

“Yes,” Neil breathes and meets Andrew halfway, tilting his head to avoid their noses pressing together uncomfortably. He feels warm all over, filled with fire from head to his fingertips and down to his toes as Andrew kisses him slowly. It feels like magic when Andrew’s fingertips run over his jaw, light as a feather, before his hand finds the back of Neil’s neck. 

Two taps on his wrist have Neil burying his hands in Andrew’s hair. It’s soft between his fingers and he has half a mind not to mess it up too badly before Andrew does A Thing with his tongue that has Neil gripping blond strands and suppressing a groan. Neil feels like he’s not in his own body anymore, like he’s floating in another universe, and—

And then the door flies open, they both pull back and Kevin Day walks in. “Guys, how long can it possibly take you to get ready? We have a tight schedule, in case you forgot. Did Neil manage to set his tie on fire? I swear, if _you_ set it on fire, Andrew, I’ll—”

Neil tries to step back but Andrew tugs him back in with the hand on his neck, the fingers of his other hand are curled into the material of his shirt. He looks over his shoulder and sees Kevin cross his arms.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I don’t know, Kevin,” Neil says, his lips tingling. “What does it look like?” 

“ _What does it_ —” Kevin repeats and then throws his hands in the air. “I cannot believe this.” 

Andrew moves his hand, slightly, and his fingertips brush Neil’s hair and send fire down his back. “Is there something bothering you?” 

Kevin slams the door on his way out, again, and Neil turns to meet Andrew’s eyes.

Then Andrew says, mirroring Neil’s for a second time, “I think he might have been bothered by something.” 

—

Neil’s feet hurt from Dan and Matt trying to teach him how to dance when he finds Andrew at the improvised bar, sitting on a stool with his elbow leaning on the counter behind him and a drink in his hand. 

He doesn’t look at Neil when he steps closer but tilts his glass and Neil takes it and downs it. It’s grape juice, sweeter than he expected and not what he thought Andrew had been sipping on. 

“My feet hurt,” Neil says and puts the glass on the counter. “This is more painful than my first night practice with Kevin. I probably won’t even be able to walk tomorrow. Hey,” he adds.

Andrew’s eyes flick to his.

“Does that mean you’ll carry me around?”

“Drama queen,” Andrew says lowly and his eyes find Neil’s cheeks, where Neil is sure Dan and Allison’s lipstick is visible. “Enjoying yourself?” 

“Very,” Neil says and means it. He looks over his shoulder to his teammates; Dan and Matt are talking to Alvarez and Laila, Nicky is trying to feed something to Allison and Renee, Kevin is nodding along with Jean Moreau to something Jeremy Knox is saying and Neil doesn’t care where Aaron is. A light tug on his tie has Neil turning back around.

“You are a mess, Josten,” Andrew says and his eyes lift from where his fingers are holding Neil. “Your tie is crooked.” 

It isn’t a question but Neil gives the answer anyway. “Nicky pulled it when Dan and Allison where kissing my cheeks. I think he took a photo.” 

Andrew blinks at him and spreads his legs a little, tugging again. “Come here.” 

And Neil goes, steps between Andrew’s legs and tilts his head up. Andrew’s knuckles brush his skin and Neil is filled with words he’s never said or thought before. He lowers his head again when Andrew is done, smiles and tells him. “Thank you.” 

He knows Andrew can read him like an open book and isn’t bothered by it. He knows Andrew can see something in the way Neil is looking at him. This time, Andrew doesn’t turn Neil’s head away and doesn’t tell him not to look at him like that. 

Neil’s smile get a little wider and he quietly exhales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> find me on twitter


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thank you to brooke for proof reading this . mwah 
> 
> this part is dedicated to
> 
> enjoy!

When Andrew steps out of the bathroom fully dressed and meets Neil’s eyes from where he’s buried under Andrew’s blankets with only the top of his head sticking out, he knows (just how Neil knows when Andrew’s moods shift, just how Neil knows when to take a step back, just how Neil knows _him_ ) that today is not a good day for Neil Josten. 

Andrew pauses for a second and lifts one eyebrow. From where he’s standing, he can see the blanket lift slightly where Neil’s shoulder should be. He takes this without a comment, flicks his eyes away and leaves, closing the door quietly behind him because he knows (and he knows and he knows and he knows) Neil is sensitive to sound on his bad days, to make himself a cup of coffee. 

Neil’s bad days aren’t as common these days and when they happen, triggered or not, they can go two ways. The last time, three weeks and two days ago, Neil was seeking physical contact and soaking in Andrew’s presence like a sponge. Today is one of the times he wants to be alone. 

Kevin stumbles out of the bedroom an hour later with pillow lines on his face, his hair a mess and the clothes he must have thrown on right after waking up an even bigger mess. He squints against the faint light. “Andrew? Where’s Neil?” 

“I’m Aaron,” Andrew says and takes a sip of his coffee. 

“Oh, ‘m bad,” Kevin mumbles and turns around. It takes him twenty seconds of staring at absolutely nothing before he turns back around and scowls, looking a little more awake. “Fuck you.” Then he looks around the kitchen, as if Neil might be hiding in one of the shelves. “Where is Neil?” 

“No.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“No,” Andrew repeats, puts a hand on his armbands and Kevin snaps his mouth shut. He finishes his coffee, ignoring that it’s cold and leaves it on the counter for someone else to clean up later. 

If it doesn’t taste as good as when Neil makes it for him (which is ridiculous because it’s always sweet enough to satisfy Andrew but so sweet that he has to dump it into one of Kevin’s flowers, and Neil doesn’t even like sweet things so _how_ —), no one has to know.

—

The whole suite is quiet when Andrew comes back. He contemplates toeing off his shoes before making his way to the bedroom but decides against it. He taps, as softly as he is capable of, against the door with his fingertips and then opens the door. 

Andrew blinks. His bed is empty and unmade. It’s cold to the touch when he runs a hand over it and from the corner of his eye, he can see Neil’s duffle bag from where he had tried to stuff it into the closet with all of his new clothes. 

There’s a feeling in his chest, not sour enough to be panic but not mild enough to be nothing either, and Andrew puts one hand to the side of his neck, his fingers finding his pulse as he thinks. And then stops. Andrew swiftly pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends a message to Neil. 

As much shit as Andrew gives Neil for having a one-track mind, they both know he isn’t better. Andrew has a perfect memory but he keeps relearning the smile Neil shows to him only, warm like the first day of spring, clear and bright. The way Neil’s eyes, the color of broken glass, narrow and crinkle lightly at the corners, how his lids sometimes lower when he’s tired, how scarred cheeks pull when his soft lips stretch into a private smile. 

Andrew has a perfect memory but he doesn’t want to stop relearning how Neil seems to be drawing light into himself, just so he can shine when others need it the most. 

The buzzing of his phone has Andrew blinking down at his phone. He drops his other hand to the crumbled bed sheets and stands up again. 

—

Irritably enough, Andrew finds Neil exactly where he thought he’d find him. He’s laying down on one of the benches surrounding the closed off court, staring at the ceiling with unblinking eyes and one of his hands on his chest, fingers curled around his phone. 

There are shadows under his eyes, his skin a shade too pale and his breathing is fast. He’s wearing sweatpants and one of Andrew’s hoodies, black and too loose around his shoulders, with the hood pulled over his auburn hair. Neil lips are dry and his voice cracks from disuse when he says, “you’re here.” 

“So I am.” 

Neil’s eyes slowly find his. “I ran.” 

“You went on a run,” Andrew says and looks down at the clothes Neil is wearing, at the barely there sweat near his hairline. 

“Why are you here?” 

Andrew doesn’t take it personally; it’s a genuine question. He takes out his phone and holds it so that Neil can see the last message he sent (a _y/n?_ that Neil had answered with a _yes_ ). 

Humming, Neil puts one hand next to him and slowly pushes himself up. He leaves the hand there and taps one finger against the bench before looking at where Andrew is still standing. 

Taking it as the invitation it is supposed to be, he sits down and leaves a careful distance between himself and Neil. His skin buzzes under his sweater when Neil scoots a little closer and then slowly, ever so slowly, puts his head on Andrew’s shoulder. 

“I hate this,” Neil says, voice barely a whisper, and takes a shuddering breath. 

Heart squeezing in his chest, Andrew turns his head until his lips rest against the hood covering the top of Neil’s head and looks at the empty court.

His phone buzzes next to his thigh, almost vibrating violently enough to fall to the ground. Andrew glances at the message and promptly deletes it. 

“His Highness.” Andrew knows Neil as much as Neil knows Andrew, they’re blades pointed at each other’s throats, and the strikers curiosity about all things Andrew just is. Like the sun and the moon on the sky every day. 

“What does he want,” Neil asks and manages not to make it sound like a question. 

But he is talking and, how Bee always says, that too is progress. “To know why I’m not outlifting everyone at the gym.” 

Neil huffs and with a touch too soft for either of them to be as familiar with as they are, pokes Andrew’s biceps. “You can probably bench press me.” Then, almost too quiet for Andrew to understand, he adds, “I’m tired.” 

Andrew nudges Neil’s head and then stands up and pulls Neil to his feet. He lets Neil stumble against him, doesn’t mind the way their limbs brush together and warm him from the inside. 

He starts walking and listens for Neil’s steps following him. When he doesn’t hear them, he turns around and holds up one of his hands. “Come on, Josten.” 

Neil’s skin is colder than Andrew’s when he puts his hand in Andrew’s and he looks smaller than he is. Andrew wants to burn the world for him. Loathes that there is no such thing as necromancy that makes it possible for him to bring everyone back to life and end them with his own bare hands. 

Neil lifts his head when they pass the parking lot and tilts his head in question.

The Maserati, as quiet as it can be, isn’t quiet enough for Neil’s bad day. Andrew knows it’s too narrow on the inside to bring any comfort to Neil today and fresh air, as much as he would rather not be outside, will help Neil. 

“We’re walking,” Andrew says and it’s as much explanation as he wants to give and Neil needs.

_Let’s go home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spare commentS . may b e 
> 
> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/seijohsmanager)

**Author's Note:**

> i hope y'all enjoyed part one from.. one hundred . 
> 
> comments and kudos are always highly appreciated ! 
> 
> if you want to talk to me, find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seijohsmanager)


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